tx_hauntings (original) (raw)

Hey, I live in Houston, and I love ghost hunting and all sorts of paranormal stuff. Here's what i have to tell you about ghostly encounters in my past, since this community seems to be a little slow, anyway, I thought you guys might be interested.

I think my house used to be haunted. I don't know if a place can just stopp being haunted, but that's what seems to have happened. When I first moved into my house at age seven, I was told that an old woman and man had died in the house. This was in 1991, and they had been living there since 1979. They died shortly before we bought the house, and we kept most of their furniture, since they had to relatives to inherit it. We got rid of one arm chair, as it seemed to have a huge blood stain on it.

When I was about eight or nine, I was on the top bunk in my bedroom and I heard papers rustling on the ground. I thought it was the cat, and called out,"Is that you, Puffy?" I, of course, did not expect a reply, but I got one. An old woman's voice called back,"No dear, it's me." When I looked down, there was nobody down there, no cat, and not even any papers to rustle around. I ran into the living room and nobody was there. Everybody was in the backyard, so I had been alone in the house.

Later that same year came "the white glove". I had a pair of white lacy gloves from my aunt's wedding, approximately three years earlier. I kept them in my closet, inside of my heavily decorated flower girl basket, but one day one of the gloves went missing. For almost a year after the glove went missing, things starting dissapearing around the house, and everytime that something went missing, they would find the white glove in it's place. The white glove would always go missing again whenever the the thing was found. A boy at school even found the white glove in the hallway outside our classroom at one time. He gave it to me, because I had told him about the white glove, and I put it in my desk. The next morning it was gone, but the puzzle his mother had given him was in it's place. When I was ten, things stopped dissapearing, and I haven't seen the white glove since.

When I was twelve, a friend was spending the night, and she woke me up, because she claimed to be afraid, because she claimed to hear a cat meowing inside the wall. My bedroom shares a wall with the laundry room. It sounded like a cat was meowing the laundry room, so she went into the laundry room to let the cat out, but when she was in there, she heard the same cat meowing from inside my bedroom. After she woke me up, I made her close the door, because I saw a black cat zip across the living room. We did not own a black cat or any cat that could have been mistaken for black at the time. It was rumored by other children in my neighborhood that the old lady had died, because a black cat was meowing at her back door. She always let in strays, so she went to let the cat in, but as she leaned down to pick it up, she had a heart attack.

When I was 18, I went off to college, in Huntsville, Texas. I experienced even more strange occurances there. I brought my mom up there once, and we stayed at The Whistler, a local B&B. We took several pictures all over the house, and every picture had what could be orbs, but what I'm assuming was dust. I took one picture of my sister sitting at the piano in the parlor. When the picture was developed, the photo sitting on the piano was on the opposite end, and there was some mist beside my sister on the piano bench.

None of the pictures we took in the room that we stayed in came out, even though there was excellent lighting, and eerie things happened in the room. There was one big queen sized bed that my sister and I slept in, and it was cross from a mirror. My sister said that she woke up in the middle of the night and saw the outline of an obviously pregnant woman in the mirror. It looked as if the woman were sitting in the chair beside the bed. I also woke up and heard footsteps downstairs, but decided it was the owner getting breakfast ready. A half an hour later, the owner showed up, and apologized for being late, because she had to pick up her boyfriend to help her with breakfast.

The oddest thing that happened to me at the inn, was right before we left. I had been carrying a doll around with me, and had to run back ustairs at the last minute to get it. I knew that I had left it on a certain bed, but when I got up there, it was tucked under a blanket, in a stroller with several other dolls. The owner would not have done this, because the other dolls were antiuqe baby dolls and mine was an NSYNC marionette doll. It obviously did not belong there, and nobody would fess up to having put it there. Later when we looked at the brochure for the inn, it said that a woman, who had been trying for most of her life to concieve, and desperately wanted a child, had died in childbirth, in the same bed that we had been sleeping in.

I also had a short encounter in my dorm there. I was sitting at the end of the hall, waiting for my roommate to show up, because I had lsot my key. While I was sitting there, a young man came down the stairs and was walking toward me, when he got halfway down the hall, he simply dissapeared. His clothes looked like they could have been from anywhere between 1950 and present day, just jeans and a button down plaid shirt. I came to find out that my dorm used to be a boys only dorm built in the 1950's. Nobody believed me, because a dorm down the street was the only one known to be haunted. It had been built in the 1930's, and it was said that a young woman had a nervous break down while brushing her hair in the bathroom and slit her own throat. People say that if you enter that bathroom, which is now an abandoned office, you can see her brushing her hair in the corner.

I also heard something at the Sam Houston Museum in Huntsville. I was sitting in the loft of the Woodland Home, when I heard footsteps on the first floor. I looked down through the grating and saw nothing there, and all of a sudden the footsteps came running toward the back porch. I followed them and again saw nothing. I all of a sudden felt very uneasy, but the only way down crossed the back porch so I stayed until my friends showed up, when they finally did, I noticed that there were drops on the back porch, like someone had been sweating profusely. Margaret Houston had a home mastectomy on that very porch. Perhaps the pain of such an ordeal was imprinted on the house?

I've experienced nothing at the Steamboat House or at Austin Hall, which are both supposed to be haunted.

I have more to say, but I have to get off the computer right now. Tell me if this needed to be put behind a cut.